


Rust

by fakearomance



Category: Hanson
Genre: AU, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakearomance/pseuds/fakearomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when the bottom falls out of the life you had planned for yourself? As Isaac tries to make sense of his dissolving marriage, Taylor copes with trying to survive life after rehab while Zac struggles with balancing a wife and child. As each of their lives take unexpected turns, they begin to spiral lower and lower until they begin to wonder if they'll ever make it back to the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Song

Isaac Hanson often wondered where exactly things had gone wrong in his life. He liked to think it was three years ago when he and his brothers were dropped from their record label. That would be the easy way of explaining how everything thereafter had spiraled so far out of control.

He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door with a heavy sigh. Never in a million years had he ever expected to find himself returning from a visit with his younger brother at a drug rehabilitation center. He certainly never thought he'd find himself and the rest of his family hosting an intervention as they had two weeks earlier. Of course, he never could have imagined Taylor as a cocaine addict in the first place.

The Taylor he had encountered today was so much different from the Taylor of two weeks ago. Though obviously still struggling, he looked more like the brother he'd grown up with. He just hoped that when the time came for Taylor to leave the center that he wouldn't relapse. He wasn't sure their parents could handle seeing Taylor that way again.

Isaac shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen. He wondered despite the silence if Mary was home yet. It was hard to tell these days. The way they revolved around each other, speaking mostly out of common courtesy, was a far cry from the smiles and laughter that used fill their home.

Of course, things hadn't been easy - not that he and Mary had gone into marriage thinking it would be all roses and sunshine. At least, he knew he hadn't. He wasn't quite sure what Mary thought - then or now. Maybe at one time he would have felt comfortable asking her. Now, though, things were different.

Once in the kitchen, he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Heineken and easily popped off the lid. He took a swig, swallowing it down in one gulp without really tasting it. He felt some guilt, thinking of Taylor, but he pushed those thoughts away. He could drink a beer to help him unwind without ending up falling down drunk. It wasn't _his_ fault that Taylor lost control. At least he hoped it wasn't.

He pushed away that thought - not wanting to revisit the aftermath and bitter words spoken between brothers after being told, more or less, by their former label that they were talentless has-beens.

Isaac peered in the refrigerator, looking for something to eat, as he heard footsteps on the stairs. Apparently, Mary _was_ home, after all. A moment later she appeared at the doorway. Her long blonde hair fell around her shoulders in waves, and her hazel eyes were downcast toward her feet. This was something she often did when her mind was elsewhere - looked at her feet to keep from falling over objects while thoughts ran rampant through her head. When she looked up, the look of surprise that fell upon her face at the sight of him told him she hadn't been aware he was home either.

Once upon a time they might have joked about the way they seemed to move silently in and out and through the house, but like their movements, their relationship was nothing more than a ghost of what it once had been.

He remembered the days when Mary would rush into his arms as soon as he arrived home. Of course, that was usually after he'd returned from a long day at the studio or after a few months on the road without seeing each other. It was odd how much they seemed to love each other when they were miles apart, but when stuck inside a house together consistently for the last three years they'd grown into silent roommates instead of the passionate lovers they had once been.

Isaac couldn't remember the last time they'd made love - at least because they wanted to. When he'd first shared the news of being dropped from the label with his wife, she had been supportive, assuring him that things would be okay. She insisted that given time, he, Taylor and Zac would get back on their feet and return to their music.

She'd even claimed that maybe a break from the music was for the best. They'd been holding off on trying to start a family even though they'd both expressed a desire to have children. She'd still been in school when they'd wed and he'd been traveling so much with the band, so they'd agreed that it wasn't the right time to bring a baby into the family.

Though Mary was still studying to become a nurse, they'd decided that maybe it was finally the right time to try. Isaac would be home more and Mary hadn't been opposed to the idea of taking a semester off after having the baby. They'd agreed that they could make it work.

Unfortunately, they never got that far. All of the tests came back negative, and as months turned into years, their relationship had dwindled.

"Hi," Mary spoke from her place at the doorway. Her voice, once music to Isaac's ears, seemed brittle, and he often wondered if this was simply how she sounded now or if she only sounded that way when she spoke to him.

"Hello," he answered.

They stared at each other for a moment before Mary finally pushed away from the doorway and stepped fully into the room. "How was your visit with Taylor?" she asked as she came to stand at the island.

It was odd, being so close, yet so far apart. For all he knew, the slab of granite between them could have been thousands of miles rather than a few feet wide.

"It was okay," Isaac answered. He was honestly surprised she even remembered where he was going for the day. He'd told her hastily of his plans the night before as she was leaving to go out with friends from school. "He seems better. More himself, or at the very least more aware."

"That's good," Mary nodded. She'd never been particularly close with either of his brothers, but Isaac took the blame for that. When he wasn't touring with his brothers or working on another album, he liked to have Mary to himself. So much of his life was intertwined with his career, and, sadly, that included his brothers - his best friends - and sometimes he just needed some separation.

He'd had plenty of that in the past three years.

"I'm glad he's doing better," Mary said, and Isaac still knew her well enough to tell she was being sincere. "Did Zac go with you?"

Isaac shook his head, swallowing another drink of his beer before he answered verbally. "He was going to, but he had to take care of Kasen."

Mary's reaction to the mention of their two-year-old nephew was two fold. First, she smiled, but then he could see the sadness filter into her smile. Zac had come around with the small boy on a few occasions, and Mary always cooed over Kasen during those occasions, holding him close and speaking softly into his ear. She was all smiles and the happiness Isaac saw there reminded him of why he fell in love with her in the first place.

Even now - distant and somewhat emotionally cold - she was still beautiful in Isaac's eyes. He'd fallen in love with her almost immediately. He didn't believe in love at first sight or any of that hokey fated crap, but within minutes of speaking to her for the first time, Isaac was certain she was the woman he was going to marry.

After Zac and Kasen would visit, though, Mary seemed to fall into a depression. Isaac knew it was out of want for her own child. When they hadn't been able to conceive after a year and a half of trying, they'd gone to the fertility doctor in hopes that he would be able to help things along. After a couple of months of trying and more disappointment, they'd opted out.

Isaac mentioned trying to adopt, but by then things had become strained between them. Having sex had become more like a chore each time they tried, and they'd drifted apart after giving up on the fertility drugs. Mary threw herself back into her studies, and Isaac threw himself into charity work.

It was something he'd done with his brothers when the band was still together, so when he'd first ventured back into getting involved, it had been awkward, going it alone. It felt good to be doing something again, and it also gave him a chance to take his mind off of how much he missed his old life - music and solidarity with his brothers and love and laughter with his wife.

At first Isaac had asked Mary if she'd like to come along, but she insisted that she had to focus on her studies. She'd pointed out that traveling to Africa would certainly be a distraction. Honestly, though, he wondered if the true reason for her refusal was because she couldn't stand the thought of being surrounded by all those children.

Zac was supportive, though, and always said he wished he could come along to help with the charity work. Sometimes Isaac thought Zac's desire to tag along had more to do with wanting a break from Lara and the baby. Though Isaac knew his brother loved Kasen with all his heart, it was no secret that his relationship with Lara was one of obligation rather than love.

It bothered Isaac now to realize that his relationship with Mary, which had begun so full of love and promise, mirrored Zac and Lara's. He never thought he'd see the day when he found himself falling out of love and into complacency with Mary.

"I could have watched him," Mary commented, bringing Isaac back to the present. Her offer to watch Kasen made him smile in spite of himself.

"I guess I didn't think of that," Isaac admitted. How stupid of him not to think of asking Mary to watch the small boy, but the idea, honestly, never even crossed his mind. Even if it had, he wasn't sure he would have asked. Knowing the way she would retreat further into herself after spending time with Kasen broke his heart. "I don't think Zac really wanted to go anyway," he added. Thankfully, that wasn't a lie.

Though Zac had tried to sound regretful during his phone call to inform Isaac that he wouldn't be able to join him visiting Taylor, Isaac could also hear the relief in Zac's voice. He couldn't blame his brother too much, though. Isaac hadn't been looking forward to the visit either - not knowing what to expect from Taylor and remembering his angry words and reaction during the intervention made his stomach turn with anxiety.

Mary frowned, but she didn't question him. She rarely did, nor he her, and the fact that they were carrying on this conversation right now was more than they'd managed for the past week.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Isaac asked to change the subject. He didn't feel like talking about either of his brothers anymore.

"No," Mary answered, and they stared at each other.

It was on the tip of Isaac's tongue to ask her if she'd like to go out. Maybe even suggest seeing a movie just for something to do. They hadn't done anything together in so long. Often times even when they ordered in, it was from separate restaurants. If they happened to eat in the same room, it was usually by accident and an awkward affair at that.

Maybe an evening out together would be just what they needed. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, they'd carried on a conversation. It may not have been much, but perhaps it was a start. Maybe if they spent some time together like they used to - during the old days, the good days - they could held rekindle the spark that seemed to have gone out of their marriage. _Maybe_ , Isaac thought, but he didn't dare to hope.

Before he could open his mouth to pose the question, though, Mary was backing away from island counter toward the doorway. "I'm meeting my study group in a little bit," she said. Was it just his imagination or was she suddenly speaking in a rush. "I'll pick up something on my way."

Isaac nodded - to himself, apparently, because she was already gone, leaving him alone once again.

Just like that the illusion of possibilities fled his mind and reality flooded back to him. How nice it would be if dinner and a movie could fix his poor excuse for a marriage, but he couldn't delude himself. He knew it would take much more than that, and he had no idea where to even begin.


	2. Hand In Hand

Isaac studied the bouquet in his hand just for something to do to. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and again he wondered what had possessed him to do this. He was fairly certain it would only end in disaster. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything right in any of his personal relationships. Hell, professionally he hadn't done so well for himself either, but at least things with the charity work were going okay.

He knew Zac would comment and say that the intervention with Taylor was a good idea, but he couldn't take the credit for that. That had been his parents' decision. He'd gone along, of course, to support them, but left to his own devices Isaac probably would have let Taylor continue to slowly kill himself.

As he stood on the stone steps outside the library, he nervously checked his watch once again. It had been three days since that night in the kitchen when he almost asked Mary to join him for dinner and a movie. Since then his mind had been going at full speed as he tried to figure out a way to correct the mess his marriage had become.

She'd scarcely been around the house since then. When she was, she was usually muttering about an upcoming test as she hurried to eat and then fled for the door yet again, which made it hard to get a word in let alone an invitation to dinner. His nerves hadn't helped matters either.

When had he become such a wimp? He'd never been afraid of asking a girl out before - even when he was gawky with long scraggly, curly hair and wore braces. If ever there should have been a time to be afraid of approaching the opposite sex, it had been then. To make matters more pathetic, the current woman in question was his wife. What the hell was wrong with him? He needed to man up like he should have over a year ago when things started to go awry.

He checked his watch again, wondering when exactly Mary might emerge from the library. It was hard to say - especially since he no longer took the time to remember her schedule. He thought back to those early days after the label drop. He would have dinner waiting on the table when she got out of class or have plans for the weekend.

It was during those days that he thought maybe she had been right that being dropped from the label wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't as though he and his brothers had been particularly happy - what with the struggle it took just to get their last album out - but they'd endured it, knowing the fans were waiting for it. Then the tour that came after had been a blast. The venues were smaller, true, but he loved the intimacy of playing to a small crowd.

He probably missed that most. Creating the music was always thrilling, but actually seeing the faces of fans as they played was like the best drug in the world. He wondered if that was what had led Taylor down the path he chose. Perhaps he was just seeking that thrill once again. If true, Isaac couldn't completely blame him.

He shook away those thoughts, knowing that sympathizing with Taylor and his drug use wouldn't do either of them any good. Instead, he refocused on the task at hand. He was hoping that the element of surprise would work in his favor. Maybe if he stunned her by showing up at the library, Mary would be more apt to stay stationary long enough for him to propose going out for dinner. The flowers were just for good measure. She used to love that kind of thing, so they couldn't hurt. Could they?

He ran a hand through his freshly shorn hair. It was so short, close to a buzz. For a moment he'd considered reinstating the faux-hawk. Mary always seemed to like it, or at the very least it always succeeded in making her giggle. He'd axed the idea, though, deciding that at 29, he might be a bit too old to wear such hairstyles.

He knew, though, that if he thought it would truly help his cause that he would have done it, but his nerves were already on edge without making any grander gestures than waiting for her to emerge from the library. Perhaps it wasn't necessarily that grand of a gesture but given the distance between them, it certainly felt like an extra long olive branch.

He let his mind wonder to where they might go for dinner, assuming she agreed to go with him. He even tried to search his mind for things they could talk about. For two people who rarely spoke, they should've had plenty to share, so why was it when they stood face to face his mind always seemed to go completely blank for things to talk about?

While he let his mind consider these worries, a group of people emerged from the farthest set of doors leading out of the library. Isaac glanced over, wondering if Mary might be among them, but he could tell just from their clothing that none of them were his wife.

He sighed, looking out toward the park across from the library. His eyes washed over the joggers and the dog walkers to a couple that were walking with their backs facing him. The man's arm was slung around the woman's shoulders and she was pressed into his side with her arm around her waist.

The sight made his heart ache, remembering the way Mary used to fit so perfectly against him, tucked tightly and safely in his arms. Holding her felt like home. Maybe that was why the house they inhabited no longer felt like a home to him? Maybe it was never the building that made their house a home but the bond between them that created that feeling of security.

His eyes stayed on the couple, his mind filled with envy and his chest heavy, as he wished to return to those days. If they could just find that comfort in each other once again, he was positive that they would be okay. If they could just find that, then they could work through the rest. They had to because the idea of living this way for the rest of their lives was too disheartening.

As the woman's arm shifted, Isaac noticed the way the silver around her wrist glinted in the fading sun. It made him think of the charm bracelet Mary wore. It was a gift he'd given her on their third anniversary. Even now, distant as they were, she still wore it. Somehow that gave him hope.

He let his eyes washed over the woman, imagining it was he and Mary on an evening stroll. The woman even reminded him of his wife. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was thin and short in stature. Even her clothing seemed familiar.

Then she turned her head to the side, away from the man whose arm was draped over her shoulder, and he caught sight of her profile. His breath caught in his throat, and he tried to tell himself that his eyes were just playing tricks on him. After all, plenty of women wore bracelets, and at this distance he couldn't be sure. However, try as he might to convince himself otherwise, he couldn't deny what he saw.

Even after months of building walls and miles of distance between them, he still knew and recognized his wife's profile. As much as he wanted to believe it to be untrue, he knew - deep in his heart - that the woman he'd been admiring from afar that reminded him so of Mary was, in fact, his wife. Perhaps he might have chided himself for not recognizing her sooner, but all he could see and think about was the fact that she was intertwined with a man who was not her husband.

Without even taking the time to consider what he was doing, he started toward the couple. Part of him was still convinced he was just imagining things. Perhaps moving closer would help prove this belief, but as he approached, his suspicion grew into fact.

His stomach lurched, and for a moment he was certain he was going to be sick. He swallowed it down, not wanting to humiliate himself further. He clenched his fists, effectively squashing the bouquet in his hands, as anger filled his veins. The heat seemed to rise, and he couldn't decide whether he wanted to yell at or hit something - possibly both - and this anger scared him.

Isaac always thought of himself as a pretty peaceful person. Even in the heat of the moment, he usually wasn't quick to anger. Normally, it was something that had to build within him, but, now, as he stood watching his wife cuddle up to some other man, he couldn't extinguish the hurt and hatred that seemed to permeate from within him.

He glared down at the broken flowers in his hands, and then flung them toward the nearby trashcan. They rebounded from the side, but Isaac made no move to pick them up.

A passing jogger yelled, "Hey, you better pick that up, litter bug!"

Isaac's anger only seemed to multiply. "Fuck you!" he yelled in response even though the jogger was already several paces away.

His voice seemed to carry, though, and he could feel the eyes on him, but he didn't care. He started to turn and retreat to his car. Maybe he was a coward, but angry as he was, confronting Mary now probably wasn't in either of their best interest. It could really only make a bad situation worse.

Before he could take two steps, though, he heard Mary call his name. He knew from the tone of her voice that when he turned around her face would be terror filled. He closed his eyes tightly and took several deep breaths. He wasn't sure it was safe to turn and face her. He wasn't violent by any means, but the pain he felt, pressing against his chest, only seemed to exasperate his anger.

"Isaac?" When she spoke his name again, her voice was small and afraid. He didn't want to look at her. It hurt too much, and when he didn't turn to face her, she approached him, tiptoeing around until she stood before him.

To avoid her eyes, he stared down at his feet. "How long?" he asked through clenched teeth.

He half expected her to play dumb and act as though he'd misinterpreted things, but with a sigh she answered, "A few months."

Isaac nodded, suspecting as much from the way the two had been wrapped around each other. He would have thought a million other questions would have entered his mind, given the revelation he'd just made, but his mind was surprisingly blank.

After several moments, he finally worked up the strength to lift his head to look at Mary. Unfortunately, it was at the same moment the bastard who'd had his arms around her approached. He didn't touch her, but he did stand closer than Isaac thought necessary.

Isaac eyed him, speculatively. He liked to think this guy wasn't any better looking than him, yet somehow that did little to ease his pain or his anger.

The man glanced from Mary to him and back again. "Is this ..." he began, and the sound of his voice caused something in Isaac to snap.

"Her husband?" he finished for the man. "Yes, that's me, bastard."

Immediately, the man took on a defensive stance, as if he had any right to feel anger about the situation. He was the man on the side, after all. _Or was he?_ Isaac wondered. He thought of all those evenings Mary had rushed out the door, claiming she needed to study or was going out with friends and realized that more likely than not those that just been lies, excuses to cover her true whereabouts.

The pain in his chest grew and he felt sick to his stomach once more. All those evenings he'd sat alone, thinking she was distracting herself with her studies, Mary had been off in the arms of another man. Then she'd come home to him, quiet and distant, making him feel like a complete failure as a husband. Maybe the reality was that _he_ had become the man on the side because he sure as hell wasn't the leading man in her life anymore.

Before the man could reply to Isaac's words, Mary tugged at his sleeve. "Paul, please," she said in a low tone, and the way she spoke to him, her words pleading and her eyes begging, made his blood boil.

He watched this man - Paul - gaze into his wife's eyes for a long moment before he nodded and stepped away from her. After taking a few steps back, he spun on his heel and walked away, leaving them alone.

Isaac turned his eyes back to Mary to find her staring at him. Her hazel eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her tears did nothing for him. He stared back at her, searching her face for some sign of the woman he'd fallen in love with all those years ago, but she was nowhere to be found. This woman was a stranger to him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked after a moment. He would have laughed at the absurdity of the question, but, in truth, his answer was probably even more ludicrous. To think he'd come here tonight to attempt rekindling their love for one another? What a crock. He could see it now, fully understand that there was no love left to revive.

Though the truth of that caused him pain, Isaac realized he felt nothing for her - not anymore. "Saying goodbye, apparently," he answered and turned without another word and walked away.


	3. Being Me

Though his eyes were focused on the road ahead of him, Isaac's mind was miles away, wondering what was happening back at the house he and Mary had once shared.

It had been roughly three weeks since he'd discovered Mary's infidelity, but his time perception seemed to be off. One moment it still felt as though it had only been hours since he spotted her cuddling up to another man while other times it felt like it had been months. He wondered if it was normal to feel so disjointed.

His emotions seemed to coincide with his perception of time. If it felt like it had just happened, he was angry and hurt, but when it felt like a thing of the past, he merely felt resigned though a little sad.

As he put the miles between the house where Mary was currently packing up her belongings and himself, his mind felt sharper than it had in weeks. It was hard to believe that in the same amount of time it took Taylor to make it through rehab, Isaac's relationship with his wife had completely fallen apart.

He shook his head, correcting himself, because he knew that wasn't completely true. While he never could have guessed that Mary was cheating on him, their marriage had been over for months. It was just their cowardice that had kept them from admitting it.

That night after he'd left Mary standing in the park Isaac stopped at a bar. His first thought had been to get drunk, but when he'd thought of Taylor, he'd found himself unable to drink more than a shot of whiskey. Then he'd considered trying to pick up a woman. It had been so long since he and Mary had been intimate, and that fact hadn't bothered him nearly as much as it probably should have until he realized that she was getting a piece on the side.

As he'd eyed the women in the bar, though, he had no desire to seek retribution for what Mary had done. Instead, he'd picked himself up and returned home. Rather than sleeping in the bed they once had shared, he'd fallen asleep on the couch.

When he had awakened, she was there. The sight of her was enough for his anger to return, but he hadn't stopped her as she tried to explain herself.

"I'm sorry," she'd said, wringing her pale hands. Her hazel eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and Isaac had found some comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only one in pain. "I won't make excuses. There aren't any, but I never meant for this to happen."

Her voice had been so hollow and broken that despite his anger, Isaac had internally flinched. She sounded much the way he felt.

"I've felt wretched about the whole thing," she'd gone on to say. "You know how things have been between us this last year. We both wanted a baby so bad, and when I couldn't ..." She'd had to stop there, and Isaac wanted to speak up because he could hear how without her actually saying that words that she blamed herself for their inability to have a child, which was odd because he'd been certain she blamed him.

However, she'd managed to calm herself and go on before Isaac could find his voice. "Paul and I were just friends at first," she'd said. "He was just so easy to talk to." She paused there, and for some reason he'd had the vague impression she to wanted to say more. Perhaps tack on that she could talk to Paul the way she used to be able to talk to him. Then she'd gone on, "I never meant for things to go past friendship, I swear."

Despite his anger, Isaac had believed her. He remembered the day they were married clearly, and he couldn't doubt the love he'd seen in her eyes because it mirrored his own feelings. Though he felt betrayed and would have liked to call Mary several unkind names, he could never accuse her of going into their marriage with less than her whole heart.

Perhaps that small kernel of knowledge was what eased the pain slightly. Neither of them ever could have expected to find themselves seated across from each other in the house that was supposed to be their home, looking like ghosts of the people they had once been and feeling like absolute strangers.

"I know," Isaac had answered. His tone was not kind, yet it wasn't nearly as harsh as either of them might have expected. Instead, it was tinged in pain and acceptance. "I think we can both agree that neither of us thought we'd find ourselves in this position."

Mary had shaken her head as tears filled her eyes. Again, he'd waited to feel _something_ toward her. The sight of her tears used to tear at his heart, and, instinctively, he'd search for some way to stop them, but just as he'd felt the night before, there was nothing there.

"I'll call our lawyer on Monday," Isaac said.

It was at these words that the dam broke. Tears had spilled from Mary's eyes. "How did we end up here?" she'd cried, asking the same question Isaac had wondered a thousand times.

He'd had no answer for her then, and now as he drove toward the rehabilitation facility to pick up Taylor, he still had no clear-cut answer.

He'd put the call in with their lawyer, who promised to draw up the papers quickly, and a week later, Isaac and Mary were in his office signing their divorce papers.

Mary had been staying with a friend during that time, and they had only spoken on one occasion when Isaac called to let her know when to be at the lawyer's office. When she'd first packed up a bag and left Isaac had been sure she was going to stay with that man - Paul, but she'd mentioned in passing that she was staying with a female friend and classmate. He wasn't entirely sure why this mattered to him, but it did. Knowing that she wasn't off rolling in the sheets with another man and having the time of her life now that she was essentially a free woman seemed to tame his anger.

She hadn't looked well either, and maybe it was sick, but that too made him feel slightly better. At least he wasn't the only one having trouble eating or sleeping. Seeing this though made him wonder if maybe this why they had both been so afraid to confront this inevitable end for their relationship. Somehow staying together, miserable though they were, had seemed like the better alternative than being miserable alone. How sad. Such cowards they were.

After their meeting with the lawyer, Isaac knew they still had things they needed to discuss, so it was with an uneasy heart and mind that he asked her to join him for a cup of coffee while they hashed things out.

It had been awkward at best. The tension between them was so thick and consuming that it seemed to take a great effort just to look at each other. Speaking was a whole other mess. They bumbled their way through it, agreeing that selling the house would probably be for the best, as neither of them would feel particularly comfortable living in the space that would remind them of such highs and lows.

"I can contact the realtor," Isaac had offered. "And I'm going to start looking for an apartment."

Mary nodded, muttering that she needed to do the same. "I'll come back for the rest of my things as soon as I find a place," she'd promised.

Two weeks had passed since then, and Mary had called a few days earlier to let him know that she had found a place. She'd been considerate enough to ask him when would be the most convenient time for her to come. Since he really had no desire to be there when she came to pack, he'd told her that today would be fine, as he'd already agreed to pick up Taylor from rehab.

He'd hoped that going to pick up Taylor would help take his mind off of Mary packing up her belongings back at the house or the apartments he'd looked at earlier in the week with the realtor, but while his brother's struggle concerned him, it was still overshadowed by his upcoming divorce.

Of the three apartments he'd looked at, he'd really liked one, but he hadn't acted immediately. Despite the realtor's insistence that he had to act fast or lose out, he just couldn't seem to make himself commit because it felt like there was something still holding him back.

At the time he hadn't been sure what it was, but now as he thought about moving his possessions into a new place, he realized what it was. So much of his life was linked to Mary. The last three years had been tough, but before that they had been happy together - or at least he _thought_ they were happy - and though he knew he was no longer in love with her, they had shared so much.

It wasn't so much the possessions themselves because those could easily be replaced, but it was the idea of living alone combined with the realization that eventually Mary would find someone else to share her life with - Paul or otherwise - and all of her possessions would be scattered throughout some other man's house.

On some level he wanted that for her. He couldn't truly wish her to live the rest of her life in regret and misery. He certainly didn't want that for himself, so why would he wish it upon her? She'd made a mistake by falling into another man's arms, but he did find some comfort in the fact that she hadn't sought out another man until after their marriage had already begun to dissolve.

When he'd shared the news of his and Mary's divorce with his parents, he hadn't told them of her affair, but they'd still seemed somewhat unsurprised. Maybe his and Mary's misery had been obvious to everyone. Perhaps they'd all seen it coming - knew it was just a matter of time. That thought made him cringe because that meant everyone knew how pathetically gutless they both were.

Even though his parents hadn't said anything negative, he'd still felt ashamed. If anything, the way his mother had wrapped her arms around him and his father patted him on the back and told him everything would be okay had only made him feel small and stupid rather than comforted. He was supposed to be a man, and he knew his parents didn't mean to embarrass him, but that did not erase his shame.

He wondered if that was how Taylor felt that day he arrived at their parents' house, expecting a home-cooked meal, but instead found his family gathered in the living room with the guy from the rehabilitation center. Though the whole family had met with the therapist beforehand and had been told what would likely happen, Taylor's reaction to the intervention had been unlike anything Isaac had ever seen.

Taylor had always been very passionate, but the anger that exuded from him as they'd expressed how concerned they were for his health and how much it hurt to see him slowly killing himself had been terrifying. He'd yelled and screamed before finally breaking down into sobs. It was then that their mother had held him in her arms. She'd whispered to him for several minutes, and Isaac still wondered what exactly she had said to him. Whatever it was seemed to work because the anger gave way to exhausted resignation. He'd relented and agreed to enter the rehab program.

It was hard to believe Taylor had been deemed ready to go home. While their parents were aware that Taylor's drug problem had been going on for a while, Isaac was certain they had no idea just how long that was. He knew that they blamed a lot of Taylor's downward spiral on being dropped from the label, and Isaac was sure that did play a major role, but even before they were let go, Taylor was dabbling in the lifestyle.

Isaac would never pretend to be some kind of prince. He'd had a short stint that involved a lot of drinking and lighting up a joint just about every night when he was younger. It was before he'd met Mary, and even then Taylor could drink Isaac under the table, and he usually had a spare joint on hand at all times. Even though Isaac knew it wasn't healthy, it seemed to be in moderation, and Taylor functioned perfectly fine.

When the drinking and smoking turned into heavier drugs, Isaac couldn't be certain, but the first time Isaac caught Taylor snorting coke, he had been appalled. Taylor had shrugged it off, saying it wasn't a big deal. Isaac had believed him, mostly because it was easier that way.

Isaac had never been good with confrontation. Perhaps if he were, things would have ended differently with Mary. Maybe he could have prevented Taylor from becoming a cocaine addict and nearly breaking their mother's heart. He could have stopped so much pain in so many ways if he had just spoken up sooner.

As the rehabilitation center came into view, Isaac wondered what was in store not only for himself but also for his younger brother's future. They both seemed to be at a major crossroads. Now was the time to choose the right path. That sounded so easy, yet Isaac was sure it was anything but.

He pulled into an empty parking spot and shut off his car. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and headed inside, wondering if the man awaiting him would be the same brother he remembered from the pre-drug days or if post-drug Taylor would be someone else entirely.


	4. My Own Sweet Time

For the first time in a very long time, Taylor Hanson was seeing things clearly. Maybe that sounded like a great thing to everyone else, but if he were being honest, he missed living in his former haze. Somehow everything just seemed so much better, easier when it was blurry.

That wasn't to say he wasn't happy to be sober. He was, truly. He looked and felt better, but some aspects of viewing the world through clear eyes made him remember why he'd wanted to be high all the time.

Of course, remembering what it had been like in detox was nearly enough incentive in of itself to ensure he never touched another drug in his life. Taylor thought for sure he was losing his mind, and he'd never been so angry in his entire life. His family had pushed him into this. How could people that supposedly loved him put him through something like that?

Now, he understood. Painful though it was to endure, it had to be done, and, honestly, he believed that he deserved the pain for what he'd put his family through over the last few years.

He'd been an unreliable asshole at best. During Group, he'd heard plenty of horror stories from the others about stealing from close friends and family or growing violent while high. Thankfully, Taylor had never gotten that far, but he suspected that it would have only been a matter of time before he'd sunk that low. Instead, he alienated himself by continually pushing his family away.

It started out small - doing things like not showing up or doing something he said he would. Most of the time it was because he was too stoned or strung out to get out of bed or he'd simply forgot. Taylor couldn't be certain, but he suspected his parents thought it was because of losing their record deal.

Maybe they would have continued to believe it if he hadn't slipped up. He'd been pulled over and cited for DUI. He never thought he'd find himself hauled off to jail, and by the look on his father's face when he came to bail him out, it was pretty clear he was not pleased. Luckily, Taylor had been able to talk his way out of it with his dad - throwing out excuses about having too much to drink at a party and apologizing profusely.

His dad wasn't happy, but he seemed to buy it. After that he showed up for a few Sunday dinners with the family. His mom complained that he needed to eat more and would send him home with leftovers that usually never were eaten.

He kept up the pretense for a while, but then his family started to question him about what he was doing with his days and nights and why he was so skinny or seemed so tired one week or hyped up the next. He didn't like the questions, so he began to distance himself again.

He supposed it was a good thing his parents weren't willing to let go so easily. Loathed though he was by his parents showing up at his place unannounced some weeks after he'd stopped attending the family dinners, he had to be grateful. If they hadn't shown up that day, he likely would have died on his kitchen floor. His mom continually thanked God, saying she just _knew_ something was wrong and insisted they stopped by to see him.

Taylor didn't believe in fate, but it was pretty fucking lucky that the one time he overdosed, his parents showed up and found him just in time. Talking his way out of that hadn't been easy. His mom cried at his bedside and his dad loomed in the corner, asking him over and over again why he was doing this to himself. He'd lied, saying it was a one time occurrence that would never happen again. He _thought_ they bought it. Apparently they hadn't, because less than a week after being released from the hospital, he found himself being ambushed.

Mentally, he called the day his family posed the intervention D-Day. This was partially because the intervention itself was much like a battle. Taylor couldn't fight the shame that seemed to wash over him every time he thought about it. He'd never really yelled at either of his parents before. They were never the types to hover and had always been pretty easygoing. Most of his teenage years were spent focused on the band - on their music - and so he'd bypassed a lot of the typical fights teenagers often had with their parents.

The other reason for calling it D-Day was because it was the day that changed his life. Up until his mother rocked him in her arms and whispered to him how much she loved him and just wanted to see him happy and alive again, Taylor was prepared to fight tooth and nail not to enter treatment. His mother's broken voice, though, pained him more than anything she actually said. Hurting her - and the rest of his family - that way killed him.

As much as he wanted to hang on to the high, Taylor couldn't bear the thought of continuing to hurt these people that loved him. He was aware enough to know that. It was probably the most lucid thought he'd had that day - aside from how much he was looking forward to his mom's famous roast, anyway, which was odd considering he was rarely ever actually hungry.

Now, seated next to his older brother, Isaac, as they headed back to Tulsa - back to Taylor's apartment - his stomach gurgled. His appetite was back with a vengeance, and while he'd very much resembled a skeleton upon entering treatment, he'd managed to gain some weight back. His mother would probably still say he was "too skinny," but knowing her, it would only be a matter of time before he'd find himself unable to fit into his old clothes.

"You want to stop for something to eat?" Isaac asked.

The ride had mostly been silent. Isaac hadn't said much when he'd come to pick him up either. Whether this was because Isaac had no idea what to say to him or because Isaac was lost in his own problems, Taylor wasn't sure. From what Taylor gathered from the other members of his family he'd spoken to during his allotted time for phone calls, Isaac had been pretty hushed about the divorce.

None of them had seemed all that surprised about the divorce itself, though, and Taylor couldn't help but feel slightly out of the loop. The Isaac and Mary he knew were so in love with each other. Of course, after they were dropped from the label, things hadn't necessarily been pretty amongst the brothers Hanson.

Taylor was still mostly drinking, smoking pot, and popping pills then. He had dabbled in harder stuff, but that didn't become the norm until later. Regardless, the news of being dismissed from their record label had them all on edge. Instead of leaning on each other as they had in the past, they'd lashed out, taking their anger and frustration out on each other.

The months following their departure from their record label, and in turn their music and each other, Taylor rarely spoke to either of his brothers. Zac was the first to hold up the white flag, but Taylor suspected that probably had more to do with the Laramie crisis than an actual desire to make amends. Either way, it got them all speaking again, but things were definitely not the same.

At first Taylor had fiddled around with music, but he quickly grew frustrated. The magic he used to feel when playing seemed to be gone. Whether it was because his brothers weren't there playing with him or the disillusionment he felt toward the institution that caused this, he wasn't certain. Regardless, he gave up.

That was when he started going to the parties. With the parties came drugs and women. At first, it was the women that interested him more. Somehow fucking a hot chick seemed to make things better. His therapist at the center suggested maybe the lure was the idea of being wanted - record deal or not.

The fucking never got old - not really, but it did lose some of its luster. Drinking more and smoking a bowl helped some. It gave him the illusion of freedom, weightlessness, but that too seemed to dull after a while. He'd snorted coke before - casually - and with the booze and weed losing their effects, he decided to give it another shot, or, rather, snort.

It was while giving it another try that he met Adalyn. He'd never really considered her his girlfriend. His parents had never even met her, and Isaac and Zac had only crossed paths with her as either she or they were coming or going from his place. She had become his fuck buddy, for lack of a better term to explain their relationship.

They partied hard together - drinking, smoking, snorting - and once the party was over the nights always ended the same - kissing, groping, fucking. That had become their routine. Usually, when they woke together, they'd snort a line, fuck, maybe eat something and part ways until the next party. Then the routine would begin again.

He shook his head and felt Isaac's eyes on him. He realized Isaac was still waiting for an answer. "Sure, food sounds good if you don't mind," he said.

"Sounds great," Isaac nodded. He smiled just a little, but it didn't meet his eyes. Though Taylor was sure his brother was trying not to show it, it was impossible not to see how sad he was.

Taylor considered asking Isaac how he was really doing - brave face and all that shit aside - but he knew in asking that it would give Isaac an invitation to ask him the same. Taylor wasn't really in the mood to have that conversation right now. Doing the whole "making amends" thing with his family was hard enough, and he still had family members left to go. Zac hadn't shown up to visit him during his stay at the rehab center, and, apparently, a face to face apology was the preferred method, so that would be high on Taylor's to do list.

He was dreading going back to his apartment. He had no idea what state he'd left it in when he left for that fateful dinner at his parent's house. His parents had bought him a bag of all new clothes and toiletries to take with him to rehab. He figured it was their way of not giving him any extra time to reconsider the decision to go.

Since the rehab facility was based away from the city, there weren't a lot of places to stop along the way to eat, so when they came upon a small diner in some small town, Isaac pulled into the parking lot. Lunch was decidedly awkward, and Taylor reasoned that it probably would have been this way even if he hadn't just left rehab or if Isaac hadn't just announced he was divorcing his wife.

Though Taylor still considered Isaac - and Zac - his best friend, their relationship in recent years had been tenuous at best. Losing their record deal had taken it's toll on all of them, and the men they were three years ago after it happened were certainly worse for wear, in part, because of it now.

"Still doing the charity stuff?" Taylor asked apropos of nothing as Isaac took a bite of his sandwich.

Isaac nodded as he chewed, and after he swallowed, he said, "Yeah, but I think I'm going to take a break."

"Yeah?" Taylor said, hoping Isaac would go on without too much prodding. The silence at their tiny table was suffocating.

"Yeah, I need to find an apartment," he said. "There was one I liked, but I'd still have move and all of that. I think I just need some time, or whatever."

This, at least, Taylor could understand. All of those days in Group, he'd heard plenty about just needing to take his time. Apparently, this was a process that shouldn't be rushed, unless he was looking to relapse back into his old habits. While he missed the haze and blur he used to live in, he did not want to fail. That was probably part of the reason drugs had seemed like such a great solution in the first place. At the time they'd helped him forget about the failure of the band, his future, his dreams.

The ache from that failure was still there, but snorting himself into an early grave wouldn't change anything - except make him a washed-up, has-been musician who wound up partying himself to death. That was just so cliche.

"I can help with the move if you want," Taylor offered. Although he'd apologize to Isaac for all of the awful things he'd said and done while he was using, he still felt the need to do something more.

"Thanks," Isaac said, smiling a little.

Once they finished eating and paid for their meals, they were back on the road. Again, silence filled the space. Although Taylor wouldn't have been opposed to some conversation to take his mind off of his anxiety, the silence wasn't completely uncomfortable. They'd told him over and over again that life outside of rehab wouldn't be easy, so this came as no surprise, but he was only now beginning to understand.

Now he could see why some of the other members at Group chain-smoked. Being so aware out in the open like this made him long for just something - _anything_ \- to help take the edge off of his nerves.

The feeling seemed to get worse as they entered the familiar streets. Again, the dread of facing his apartment and what might potentially be inside it haunted him. If Isaac noticed Taylor's edginess, he didn't say anything. Taylor was grateful. Questions usually seemed to agitate him and make him yearn for the drug even more.

When Isaac pulled into the parking lot behind Taylor's building, they both sat there staring up at the building for a long moment. Finally, Isaac turned off the car and opened his door, either because he was anxious to get home - though Taylor doubted it - or because he knew that Taylor would likely never make the first move.

Taylor grabbed his bag from the backseat, and together he and Isaac made their way into the building. It felt awkward, fumbling with the keys. His short-term memory wasn't what it had once been. The doctors told him that it should come back to him in time. He just hoped that he hadn't done any permanent damage. He thought of his music and losing that ability would probably kill him faster than the drugs ever could.

The ride up the elevator was tense, and by the time they reached the door to his apartment, Taylor's hands were shaking. It took him longer than it should have to unlock the door, but that was partly because he didn't want to go inside. He didn't want to see. He didn't want to think about what he might find or how it might tempt him.

When he did push the door open though, the breath he'd been holding came out in a rush. With wide eyes he stepped inside. The floors and counters were clear of the trash and clothing Taylor had been sure he'd left there. For a moment he wondered if he was in the wrong place or there had been some kind of misunderstanding with the landlord. Maybe his apartment had been given away to someone else.

He looked at the furniture, but it was definitely his. He glanced at Isaac, who looked slightly bemused. "Mom and Dad cleaned," he explained. "It was a sty, man."

Taylor chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't doubt that for a minute. "Did they clean everywhere?" he wondered.

Isaac seemed to hear the unasked question: Did they clean every room and get rid of all the drugs he had stashed? "Everywhere," Isaac confirmed.

"That's good," Taylor sighed, relief washing over him, as he wandered around the room, trying to reacquaint himself with the place.

"You know we've got your back, right?" Isaac said.

"I'm beginning to see that," Taylor admitted.


	5. End of the Line

_Fuck. My. Life._ Taylor thought, throwing down the game controller with a scowl. With a huff, he stood and made his way into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Never in his life had Taylor ever felt so entirely bored. "Bored out of my gourd," he mused as he rifled through the refrigerator.

He'd been out of rehab for almost two months, and while there were moments when his mind strayed to the idea of getting high, he'd held strong. Where going to the Narcotics Anonymous meetings usually just left him feeling depressed, talking with his sponsor - a man named Kevin - seemed to help a lot.

Kevin had suggested he find something productive to do with his time. Thus far, Taylor had been unable to find anything that held his attention. He'd taken up jogging, but it, honestly, took more effort and energy than Taylor was willing to give. He'd gone sightseeing for a week, pretending to be a tourist in the Tulsa area. That had been interesting, but there was only so much he could do.

The Sunday dinners with his family were nice, though. It was awkward at times because he had been so out of the loop with his family. One of his sisters would mention something that everyone else seemed to know about while Taylor had to swallow his pride and ask what they were talking about. Where Jessica and Avery usually got a bit annoyed, Zoe seemed all too enthused to elaborate. At least his youngest sister still liked him. He wasn't sure where exactly he stood with the other two. Either they hated him or they were just going through some prissy stage.

His mom and dad were thrilled to have him around. With all but the three youngest living away from home, Taylor figured these dinners were probably the highlight of his mother's week. She'd cook a huge meal to fatten them up and coo over them, wanting to know the details of their weeks even if she'd spoken to them every day during the week and already knew everything.

It was good to see his brothers as well. All Mackenzie could talk about was turning sixteen at the start of the New Year. He couldn't wait to get his driver's license, despite the fact he had no car.

Isaac seemed a little less withdrawn. There were times when he still seemed sad, but Taylor had helped him move into the new apartment a few weeks ago. It was a nice little place - not too far from Taylor's own apartment. They'd hung out a few times, but they never really talked about anything of importance.

Zac always had Kasen with him when he came to the dinners. Laramie was rarely with him, though, but since he and Zac spoke so little already he didn't feel he had the right to ask where she was. Taylor had managed to pull Zac aside and apologize to him for his past behavior. Zac accepted without any problem, but Taylor wasn't sure if he accepted so easily because he held no grudge or just because Kasen happened to start crying and Zac wanted to check on him.

Aside from the Sunday dinners, though, Taylor was bored. Video games had been his biggest source of entertainment for the better part of a week, and he either sucked so badly at a game that he gave up or he won too quickly and easily to find any thrill in it.

He was in desperate need of a new hobby. Kevin had asked him if he'd considered giving music another try, but it wasn't something Taylor was ready to try. After all, the last time he'd attempted music without his brothers by his side, he wound up a cocaine addict. He did not want to repeat that.

After settling for some of the leftovers his mother had sent home with him a couple nights ago, Taylor stuck the dish in the microwave and watched as it revolved. Just as the timer went off, signaling it was finished, there was a knock at the door.

The sound caused Taylor to jump slightly. Hardly anyone ever visited him without calling ahead. Sometimes his mom would stop by if she was passing by, and he figured it was probably her. He knew she was checking in on him, making sure he was staying out of trouble. It probably should have bothered him, but considering some of the tempting thoughts that crossed his mind, he figured it wasn't an altogether bad thing to have someone else watching out for him. If anyone could make him want to stay clean, it was his mom. Just the thought of her broken voice and the sadness in her eyes made him feel sick with guilt.

He made his way to the door, bare feet slapping against the wooden floors at he went. When he reached the front door, he pulled it open with a smile, expecting to see his mother. His smile faltered and he blinked in disbelief at whom he found instead.

"Oh, so you're answering your door now?" Adalyn demanded. Her dark hair was a mess and her make-up was smudged. It looked as though she hadn't yet slept. Of course, it could have also just been a side effect of being stoned.

"You gonna make me stand out here all day or are you going to let me in?" she demanded, but she didn't give him time to answer. She shouldered her way into the apartment. Dazed, Taylor closed the door and turned around to find her gazing at the apartment. "Holy fuck! Did you get a maid or something?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

Taylor stared at her, trying to find his voice. Of all the people he expected to show up on his doorstep, Adalyn was among the last. Their relationship was anything by typical, but after he left for rehab without any warning and never called while he was there - mostly because his cell phone had been taken away and he couldn't for the life of him remember Adalyn's number, not that he knew what he would say to her anyway - he hadn't heard a word from her since he'd been home. This hadn't bothered him in the least. He'd simply believed she'd moved on while he was away.

Now as she stood in his apartment, Taylor had absolutely no idea what to say to this girl. When he didn't answer her, Adalyn rounded on him. Her eyes were narrowed and she looked ready to rip into him, but as she looked him over, her eyes grew wide. "Shit," she said. "You look . . . different."

Taylor wondered if she was using _different_ as a synonym for sober.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked, her hostility finally giving away to curiosity.

Taylor finally managed to find his voice. "Rehab," he answered.

"Fuck, seriously?" Adalyn asked incredulously as she approached him slowly, as if he might attack if she moved too quickly. Somewhere in the back of his mind Taylor wondered if she had always cursed this much. Of course, his vocabulary was pretty colorful, so it wasn't as though he had much room to talk.

She looked like she was honestly waiting for a confirmation, so Taylor nodded.

"Wow," she said under her breath. She eyed him speculatively for a moment. "So I guess that means you probably don't want to go this party I heard about?"

This caught him off guard. They hadn't seen each other in over three months, and this was her response to the news he was sober?

"No, that probably wouldn't be a great idea," Taylor admitted, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Huh," Adalyn sighed. Then she sniffed lightly. "Do I smell food?"

"Yeah, my mom sent over some leftovers," Taylor said, nodding his head back toward the kitchen. Adalyn's eyes seemed to light up in excitement. Though he was hungry himself and had been looking forward to digging into the block of lasagna, he said, "You want some?"

"Hell yeah!" she grinned. She didn't bother to wait for him as she scurried off to the kitchen. It was odd seeing her making herself so at home here. He wasn't sure if this should bother him. He hadn't minded before, but he, honestly, hadn't cared about much of anything then unless it involved getting his hands on some good drugs.

Adalyn had already made herself at home at the table and was digging into the lasagna by the time he reached the kitchen. He watched as she wolfed it down, feeling mildly repulsed. He wondered when she last ate. From the looks of it, it had been a while. If he looked like a skeleton, then he had no idea what to compare Adalyn to.

She was so thin that Taylor had a hard time finding what could have possibility attracted him to her in the first place. Fucking her probably could have been comparable to fucking a skeleton. He gagged internally at the thought.

"What you staring at?" Adalyn asked, pausing between bites.

"Nothing, just spaced out," Taylor lied. "Food good?"

"Great," she smiled and tucked in again.

While she continued to eat, Taylor perused the cabinets in hopes of finding something else to eat. He'd stocked up a few days ago, but since his cooking skills were less than stellar, he tended to stock up on snack foods and things that could be nuked in the microwave. However, none of those things sounded remotely appetizing compared to the lasagna.

"So, how long ya been back?" Adalyn asked as she chewed.

Taylor didn't turn to look at her as he answered, "Couple of months."

"Really? I hadn't realized it had been so long since I stopped by," Adalyn muttered. "I wondered what happened to you."

"Yeah?" This surprised Taylor. Since she hadn't been around, he just assumed she probably didn't care. She hadn't said she missed him or anything gooey like that, but she had at least wondered about him, which was more than he honestly expected from her.

"Yeah, I thought you might have skipped town or some shit," Adalyn muttered. "Or, I dunno, managed to kill yourself. It happens, ya know."

"It almost _did_ happen," he mumbled. Adalyn had just left hours before on the day that his parents found him passed out on the floor, nearly dead. Oddly, he hadn't mentioned his brush with death to her when he saw her a few days after being released from the hospital. Instead, he'd gone to a party with her, got high and then fucked her seven ways to Sunday. He grimaced at the memory.

"What was that?" Adalyn asked. She was only half paying attention - the food was still her main focus.

"Nothing," Taylor shrugged as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "Thirsty?" he asked to be polite. Again, this felt odd. After all the of the debauched things he and Adalyn had done - after fucking her in nearly every way and every place imaginable without feeling anything more than horny and high - he was suddenly trying to act like a gentleman. _This is so fucked up_ , Taylor thought.

"You got any beer?" Adalyn asked, glancing up at him.

Taylor stared at her, wondering if she had any comprehension of what she'd just asked him. The disinterested look upon her face told him she probably had no idea. "No," he answered, tersely.

His tone caught Adalyn's attention though. She stared at him, looking confused before the look of confusion morphed into what he guessed was slight embarrassment - again, an odd reaction given the things they'd done together and to each other. "Shit," she sighed. "You're clean. Of course you don't have beer. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to shrug it off. "I've got water and coke." He groaned and corrected himself, "I mean, Coca-Cola."

"I'm not stupid," Adalyn glared. "I knew what you meant." They eyed each other uncomfortably for a moment before she said, "I'll take the water."

Taylor turned back around to face the refrigerator, relieved to have an excuse to look away, and grabbed a bottle of water. He turned slowly and slid it across the table without meeting her eyes.

They remained silent as Adalyn finished the rest of her food and sipped on her water. When she finally pushed the empty plate away from her, she asked, "So what the hell do you do for fun now?"

This threw him for a loop. "Um, just hang around," he shrugged. "Play video games, watch movies, I dunno."

Adalyn eyed him for a moment before asking, "What kind of movies you got?"

It was odd how she'd been here so many times before, staying for days when they were too fucked up to leave the house sometimes, and yet she'd apparently never perused the movies lining his shelves. _Well_ , Taylor reasoned, _we had_ other _ways of entertaining ourselves then._

"It would probably be easier for you to look," he answered. He didn't feel like rattling off all the titles of the movies he had. His collection had grown considerably in the last two months, and he'd watched plenty of really shitty movies along with some pretty impressive porn. He figured he probably could've written a massive book of reviews about the things he'd watched recently. Of course, he didn't think anyone would give a shit about what he thought.

Adalyn hopped up at the invitation and made her way back into the living room. Taylor watched from the archway between the two rooms as she scanned the shelves. After a minute she grabbed one and held it up.

" _Fantasia_?" Taylor blinked.

"Hells yeah!" Adalyn grinned. Taylor pushed away from the doorframe and Adalyn tossed him the movie case.

He popped it in the DVD player while Adalyn settled on the couch. Once it was ready, Taylor stood and debated his options. He didn't have a lot of furniture - just a couch and a couple of recliners - but the prime movie watching spot was on the couch. However, Adalyn had seated herself with her back against one arm with her knees bent and her feet placed on the middle cushion.

Eyeing her warily, Taylor sank into the seat at the opposite end of the couch and settled in for an awkward evening. While Adalyn giggled and squirmed in her seat, hiding her eyes with her hands occasionally, Taylor couldn't help but wonder how the hell he wound up in this position.

At one point Adalyn glanced over him. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he shrugged. _Aside from feeling awkward as fuck_ , he amended mentally.

"Then why aren't you laughing or freaking out?" she asked.

He just shrugged this time. "I guess the movie just doesn't have the same affect when sober," he muttered.

"Fuck you," Adalyn scowled. "This movie is the best."

Taylor rolled his eyes and decided against arguing. He just hoped she'd finish watching the movie and leave for that party she mentioned before and leave him in peace.

He had no such luck. When the movie was over, Adalyn picked another one - _Friday the 13th_ this time - and as soon as the slashing began, Adalyn was all but seated in his lap, hiding her eyes in his shoulder. Having no idea what to do, Taylor patting her in what he hoped was a comforting way on the back.

Apparently, it was a little too comforting because the next thing he knew, Adalyn's lips were pressed to his neck. He ignored it at first, thinking maybe she'd take the hint if he didn't react, but when she started kissing her way up his neck toward his lips, he had to speak up.

"Whoa there," he said, pushing her away gently.

She lifted her blue eyes to his and pouted her lips. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, uneasily. "I just - I thought we were watching the movie."

Adalyn glanced at the television screen and then back to Taylor; her pout transformed into a scowl. "You'd rather watch this shitty slasher flick than fuck me?" she demanded.

"What? No, I - I just . . ." Taylor faltered. The truth was he really _didn't_ want to fuck her. Despite her pretty face, she was all skin and bones with greasy hair that smelled heavily of smoke. These things likely didn't bother him before because he was either too stoned or too horny to care. Now it was all he could think about. "Look," he said, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "I can't. It's part of my recovery."

The scowl turned into incredulity. "What? Seriously?" she asked, sounding appalled.

Taylor merely nodded.

"That . . . that sucks," Adalyn pouted, and he suspected the pout had more to do with the fact that _she_ wouldn't be scoring with him rather than the fact that the only sexual relationship _he_ was having these days was with his right hand and his television screen.

Taylor had no idea what to say, but Adalyn didn't say anymore. Instead, she slid back to the other end of the couch and returned her attention to the movie. Somewhere between Jason's mother showing and the remaining camp counselor cutting the psychotic woman's head off, Adalyn fell asleep.

He tucked a blanket around her before making his way to his bedroom, locking the door behind him before he fell uneasily into bed. He had no idea if Adalyn would still be here when he woke up, and a part of him hoped that she wouldn't.

However, now he could understand his parent's pleas. He didn't love Adalyn. In fact, he wasn't even sure he liked her. Looking at her and seeing what she had done to herself made his stomach churn, and he was thankful he hadn't eaten anything. He wondered if that was how he looked to his family. For once, he was glad to be seeing clearly. Now he understood his family's dilemma. He wondered vaguely as he drifted off to sleep whom - if anyone - out there was worrying over Adalyn.


	6. Got A Hold On Me

"So, I was thinking," Adalyn began and Taylor glanced over at her.

For the last two weeks Adalyn had been dropping by at her leisure. The first morning after she crashed on the couch, she'd stuck around and ate a bowl of cereal, but Taylor could sense that she was antsy. He had figured she'd probably stopped by the night before in hopes of mooching some coke or money off of him. He wasn't quite sure why she'd stuck around after she found out he was clean, though. When she left, he had no doubt she was on a mission to score some blow.

He raised an eyebrow now. He'd stopped trying to figure her out long ago. It was hard to say if she was really as erratic as she seemed or if that was all just the drugs. He suspected the latter, and that made him wonder what she might have been like before she started using. From her physical appearance, he was sure she used to be beautiful. He still caught glimpses of it every now and then. Sometimes he'd get a mild ache in his nether regions, but he suspected that was more out of withdrawal from sex than any true desire to bed the bizarre girl who had shouldered her way back into his life.

"What were you thinking?" he asked when she didn't immediately go on. Sometimes she did that though - start to say something but lose the thought almost immediately.

"We should go do something tonight," she said.

At this, Taylor sighed. He could already hear the spiel she was about to give him. He'd heard it plenty of times. She always wanted to do _something_. "Something" was usually either go to a party, get stoned or fuck. He wasn't interested - or was trying not to be interested, anyway - in any of those things, and more often than not, Adalyn would leave in a huff after he turned her down.

That was fine by him. If he were being honest with himself, he couldn't be absolutely sure why he kept letting her come back in. Isaac had stopped by one afternoon while Adalyn was lounging on the couch. As soon as Isaac set eyes on her, he eyed Taylor speculatively.

"I'm not using again," he'd said with a sigh, but he could see that Isaac wasn't impressed. It stung that his brother didn't believe him, but then Taylor realized Isaac really had no reason to take his word for it.

He tried explaining that Adalyn had just been coming by to hang out, and Isaac's reply to that was, "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Rationally, Taylor knew it wasn't a good idea. The temptation Adalyn brought with her every time she showed up picked at his resolve. He couldn't deny that there were times when he considered giving in and doing _something_ with her.

In answer to Isaac's question, he simply shook his head and sighed. Isaac hadn't pushed the issue, but he didn't stick around for very long either. It was easy to tell that Isaac wasn't comfortable being around the girl, and Taylor couldn't find it in him to fault his brother for that. Often times, he felt uncomfortable around her as well. Sober, he realized he knew next to nothing about her, and Adalyn wasn't too keen on sharing either.

All he knew for sure was she was his age. He didn't even know where she lived, and from the way she kept using his couch as a bed, he was beginning to wonder if she even had a home. She didn't work - he doubted anyone would hire her even if she tried to find a job - so that also made him wonder how she was getting her drugs. Following that line of thought only caused him more worry.

As soon as the question entered his mind, he began thanking the heavens that all the tests they ran on him while in rehab had come back negative. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he and Adalyn used a condom some of the times they were together, but he only knew this because he'd woken up to find the rubber tossed haphazardly in the room. He cringed, thinking of what his parents might have found when they cleaned the place while he was in rehab.

When Kevin found out about Adalyn, his opinion echoed Isaac's thoughts. He'd told Taylor he didn't think it wise to keep in touch with someone like Adalyn, who was not only so linked to his past partying but was still using herself. He'd asked if Taylor had tried talking her into quitting. Taylor had merely shrugged, and Kevin shook his head, displeased.

Taylor hated disappointing the guy. Kevin had been good to him and for him, and he knew he should take his opinion seriously, but he'd yet to take action. Every time Adalyn knocked at the door, he'd consider not answering, but in the end, he always gave in. He wondered if this was some kind of omen for things to come, and prayed it wasn't and that he would find the resolve to rid Adalyn from his life.

"Hey!" Adalyn's voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at her and could see the expectant look upon her face. "We gonna do something or what?" she asked, looking hopeful.

Taylor leaned back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. "Ada, why would you think the answer would be any different tonight than it has been every other night?" he asked, rubbing his temples.

She huffed lightly at his question but answered him anyway. "It's obvious you're bored," she said. "And we used to have so much fun together. Don't you want to have fun again?"

Taylor opened his eyes, but he didn't look at her. Instead, he stared up at he ceiling. "What I want is to stay clean," he said.

For about the first week Adalyn hadn't said much about his sobriety. She'd still show up high as a kite, but as far as he knew, she was never carrying anything on her when she came by. He had no idea if this was out of common courtesy or just happened by chance. He suspected the latter, as Adalyn was anything but courteous.

After a week, though, her patience seemed to run out. She was looking to score - both figuratively and literally. Why she continued to come to _him_ in hopes of finding either, Taylor had no idea, but she'd begun to try persuading him. So far, he'd held strong - mostly because she wasn't nearly as seductive as she believed herself to be.

"Why? What's so fucking great about being clean?" she questioned. This was the first time she'd outright questioned his life change. Everything else was a subtle - well, subtle for Adalyn - persuasion.

"Why don't you try it and see for yourself?" he countered. In truth, he didn't have much of an answer. At least not an answer he thought she'd have any interest in hearing. Clearly, trying to stay sober was difficult. There were a lot of places and things he had to avoid. Sure, he missed his old haunts and the good times that came with them, but for once in his life he was seeing clearly. He'd been given a chance to take stock of his life and begin to figure out what he was going to do with himself. He still had no idea, but at least he knew he had a future to think about. While using he was only working himself into an early grave.

When Adalyn didn't immediately counter him, he finally looked at her. She stared at him for several seconds before she finally spoke. "Is that why you let me hang around here?" she asked. "Clearly, you don't want me around for sex - God knows I've tried enough times - so am I just some little fucking pet project? You gonna clean me up and make me all nice and pretty like you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Taylor replied. This was only partly a lie. The idea of trying to get Adalyn to check into a rehab center had crossed his mind several times since Kevin brought it up. He mostly thought about it at night after she'd passed out on his couch. He couldn't help but continually wonder where her family was. Did they even know where she was? She never talked about them. The only people she did talk about - when she mentioned others at all - were from the party scene. Instead of admitting his curiosity, he turned things around on her. "Why do you keep coming back here if it's so fucking boring? Are you sure you aren't looking for some help?"

"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Get clean and what? Be boring as fuck like you?"

"Well, it's the only way you're getting on my dick again, and from the way you keep trying, I'd say you want me to fuck you pretty badly," he countered.

"Whatever, Taylor," she glared. "Your cock isn't that good."

"Oh, my cock isn't as good as the coke, you mean?" he smirked. "You may think that, but you've never fucked me sober."

Adalyn continued glaring at him, but she didn't answer. Taylor had no idea where this was going, and while the banter was somewhat exhilarating - sad, this was the most fun he'd had in weeks - he suspected this was their "shit or get off the pot" moment. One way or another, a decision needed to be made.

"Even if I were sober, I couldn't fuck you," she finally said. "It's 'against the rules' or whatever, isn't it?"

"It's not like I can never fuck again," Taylor said. He'd told himself this over and over again. "But when I can, some girl is going to get pounded right into my mattress."

Adalyn's nostrils flared at this, and Taylor smirked. Apparently she didn't like the idea of him fucking some other girl into oblivion. She stood and glared daggers at him while Taylor remained relaxed against the couch. "I'm leaving," she declared.

Taylor looked at her expectantly because he could just imagine her mentally tacking on _and never coming back_ like that was supposed to hurt his feelings. He was kind of surprised by the jealousy she seemed to display at the idea of him fucking someone else, but he couldn't dwell on that.

Adalyn was an addict, and right now the drugs meant more to her than anything else. Whatever she felt for Taylor - and it seemed there were some feelings there - could never compete as long as she was using.

"See ya," he said by way of an answer.

Adalyn huffed at this, and he wondered if she expected him to protest and beg her stay. If so, she was sorely mistaken. He sure as fuck never would have begged her to stay while he was using, and he sure as fuck wasn't going to beg her to stay now. Without another word, she stomped to the door. He cringed as the door banged against the wall as she made her dramatic exit.

Though he wanted to go and see if she'd done any damage to the wall, Taylor stayed rooted to his spot on the couch. He let his eyes slide to the television, where some lame action film was playing. He watched with mild interest and dozed lightly.

Some time later, he awoke to the sound of someone knocking at the door. He glanced at the clock. Two hours had passed. He smirked to himself - sure that it was Adalyn back at his door. He strolled to the door, wondering what she might say when he answered.

Like the last time he'd opened the door, expecting to find his mother, he was shocked to find Zac - Kasen in his arms - standing at this doorway. He felt mildly disappointed that it wasn't Adalyn, but the look on Zac's face quickly washed away any thoughts of his one-time lover.

"Zac?" he questioned. "What's wrong?"

Zac looked old for a 24-year-old man, Taylor decided as his eyes washed over his younger brother. Kasen was fast asleep, his head against Zac's shoulder.

"Can you watch Kasen?" Zac asked instead of answering his question.

The fact that Zac was willing to leave Kasen in his care was worrying. Zac had been distant since Taylor returned home, but Isaac had insisted that Zac was distant with everyone these days due to stress. Regardless, Zac's top priority was Kasen, and aside from the times when Kasen stayed with his grandparents, he was in Zac's care.

"What's going on?" Taylor frowned.

"Will you watch him or not?" Zac demanded.

Taylor pulled his door open the rest of the way and motioned for Zac to come inside. "How long do you need me to watch him?" he asked.

"A couple hours at most," Zac answered. "Listen, I know this isn't your thing - kids or whatever - and if it's going to screw with your recovery by stressing your out or whatever, I'll find someone else, but. . ."

"It's fine," Taylor cut in. This was the first time Zac had ever even bothered to address Taylor's drug problem on his own. Apparently, Zac cared more than he let on if he was concerned about sending Taylor into some kind of relapse. The sleeping boy, though, looked like anything but trouble. Taylor held out his hands, motioning for Zac to hand the boy over.

"He already ate," Zac said, carefully lifting Kasen from his shoulder and placing him in Taylor's hands. "We're potty training, but he's wearing a pull-up."

Taylor nodded, settling the two-year-old against his own shoulder. He might have been out of touch, but he did have several younger siblings and remember how to care for a child. "We'll be fine," Taylor assured him. "Where are you going?"

"To deal with Lara," Zac sighed. "Thanks for doing this."

"Sure," Taylor shrugged. His mind itched to know more, but he could see that Zac wasn't in the mood to answer a lot of questions. "I'll see you in a bit then, I guess."

"Yeah," Zac nodded. Taylor noticed he looked tired and irritated. He wondered what Laramie could have done this time. He'd broken down and asked Isaac about her continued absence from the Sunday dinners, but Isaac had no answers either. Whatever Zac was dealing with, he was dealing with on his own and it was definitely wearing on him.

"Good luck," Taylor said as Zac turned for the door.

Zac smiled, wryly, glancing over his shoulder. "Thanks," he muttered. "I'll need it."


	7. In A Way

Zac Hanson now understood why so many episodes of _Dateline_ were dedicated to the topic of spouses killing one another. He knew he'd never do the deed himself, but it was times like this when he certainly felt tempted to kill Lara. In the simplest terms, she was more trouble than she was worth. If she hadn't blessed him with a son, then Zac would have thought her entirely worthless.

He worried, thinking of Kasen. _Had it really been a good idea to leave Kasen with Taylor?_ he wondered. He reminded himself that it wasn't as though he'd had a lot of options. His parents were out for the evening with friends, and Isaac was out of town doing charity event that had been planned for some time that he couldn't get out of.

Before the divorce, Zac might have asked Mary to watch the boy, but he doubted it. Mary always seemed to glow at the sight of Kasen, but from what little Isaac would share, it was far from pretty afterward. Besides, despite being married to his brother for several years, Zac had never gotten to know Mary all that well, so losing her as a sister-in-law hadn't come as much of a loss to him.

Leaving Kasen with Taylor, though, had been an act of desperation, and he hoped it wouldn't be something he would regret later. He couldn't deny his relationship with Taylor had been strained, but as of late, he felt all of his relationships were that way. His two-year-old son was his best friend, which would probably sound cute and sweet to some, but, in reality, it was, honestly, rather pathetic.

Everyone kept talking about how well Taylor was doing, though. Zac could only hope that they were being honest in this praise, and that Kasen would sleep through his visit with his uncle and all would end well.

Of course, the fact that Lara had been gone for two days without bothering to call or answer her phone extinguished any hope of the night ending well - especially since she had finally decided to call him. Where he should have been relieved to hear from her, he was only pissed. He could tell she'd been crying as she told him where she was staying.

As he approached the hotel, he tried to contain his anger. Facing Lara with anything but a calm face was sure to only end in disaster. He had learned that much in their three years of marriage.

It was hard to believe it had only been _three_ years. Some days it felt like he'd been chained to the girl for a lifetime, and with each day that passed he grew more and more disillusioned. Though she was 21-years-old and considered by most to be a woman, Zac knew she was anything but. Most of the time she acted like a bratty child - behaving worse than Kasen even when he threw his worst tantrums.

When he reached the hotel, he pulled into the first parking spot he found, not worrying about its vicinity to the front door. He was in no hurry to face his wife. He scoffed mentally at the word 'wife' because in all honestly, Lara had been nothing more than an annoying roommate since they married.

He knew he had no one to blame but himself, but he'd wanted to do the right thing. It was hard to believe that he was the age Lara was now when they married. He felt so much older. Of course, he had a lot resting on his shoulders. Sometimes he wondered why he had ever been so stupid to get mixed up with a girl like Lara in the first place, but like most things that had gone wrong in his and his brother's lives in recent years, he knew it went back to being dropped from their label.

Apparently, the record company wasn't getting the kind of results from Hanson they'd been hoping for. 'Mmmbop' had been such a powerhouse that Zac had no idea how they ever expected anything else to compete with that success.

 _This Time Around_ did decently, and the tour generated a lot of funds, but as they tried to work on their next album, it just felt like they were continually running into a brick wall with the company. Eventually, though, they allowed them to released _Underneath_ , but the promotion for the album was an absolute joke, so when the album was essentially deemed a flop, none of them were very surprised.

Losing their record deal, however, was. Looking back on it now, Zac wasn't sure why they hadn't seen it coming. Maybe they were too naive to see what was right in front of them. Regardless, they were let go.

The anger that should have been directed at the money hungry studio was instead aimed at each other. Zac couldn't recall now what they had said then. All he knew was it hadn't been pretty. In all honesty, everything after that was a bit of a blur. He, Isaac and Taylor weren't speaking, and left to his own devices, Zac found himself acting completely out of character. Where he had once been cautious about everything he said and did, his defenses were suddenly down and his brain ceased to function.

He met Lara at a coffee shop, of all places. They flirted back and forth for a while, and with his brain on vacation, he gave into desire and invited her back to his place. The sex had been hot. There was no denying that, but when she came knocking at his door two months later, watery eyed and toting a pregnancy test, his brain was immediately back on red alert.

He wasn't stupid enough to just believe her when she said the kid was his. He'd married her, only after his lawyers drew up a pre-nuptial agreement. When she didn't protest, he was pretty certain that she was being honest about the baby's paternity. The tests run after he was born solidified this belief.

In retrospect, marrying Lara probably hadn't been the best idea. Taylor and Isaac had both tried to talk him out of it when he came to them in near hysterics, but he'd just wanted to do the right thing. Disappointing his parents so soon after losing their record deal just felt like too much. He ignored his brothers' opinions and married her, only to find out within a matter of weeks that outside the bedroom they were completely incompatible.

He kept telling himself that things would get better. Lara was stressed out about the pregnancy - they both were, really. Plus, she'd just graduated from high school a couple of months before their one-night stand turned into matrimony and parenthood. She was, essentially, still a child, so when she whined around or threw a fit, he tried not to let it bother him. He told himself that she was still trying to adjust.

After Kasen was born, things only got worse. He hadn't noticed in the cacophony of everyone cooing of the six pound, five-ounce child that Lara barely held him. When they arrived home, though, she wanted to have nothing to do with their son. That was when Zac grew worried. He waited for a week in hopes that she was just having trouble adjusting to motherhood. He knew the lack of sleep was wearing on him, but when her interest in Kasen never increased, Zac decided a trip to the doctor was in order. She was diagnosed with postpartum depression.

Maybe it was irrational, but this diagnosis freaked him out. He'd heard about some of the crazy things mother's who had it had done - like throwing their children off a bridge or drowning them in the bathtub. Even though Lara was taking medicine and seeing a therapist, he tried to never leave her alone with their son for more than a few minutes at a time.

Even though she snapped out of the zombie-like behavior, she never did seem to bond properly with Kasen. When he rolled over for the first time or sat up on his own or said his first words, her reactions always seemed forced. He tried to compensate for her lack of affection, but he doubted that Kasen really knew the difference - at least at first.

Now, though, Kasen barely ever turned to Lara when he had something to say or show someone. Maybe on an odd occasion he'd cozy up to her on the couch, but Lara usually seemed uncomfortable with these actions, and she would be up and out of the room as soon as she had a chance. Zac didn't understand any of it, and after putting up with it for two years, he was nearing the end of his rope.

He was certain that the postpartum depression she was diagnosed with when Kasen was a baby was just one illness on top of another underlying problem. Of course, he didn't pretend to be a doctor, but whatever was going on with Lara was something beyond adjusting to motherhood.

When Lara disappeared a couple of nights earlier, Zac's first reaction hadn't been panic like most husbands probably would have felt. Instead, he was oddly relieved. Lara came and went as she pleased. This was fine by Zac. He had no desire to act as her keeper, but she typically came home at night. The few hours they were in each other's presence in the evenings were typically uncomfortable and tense and usually resulted in some kind of minor tiff before they retired for the evening.

It was probably comparable to the tension between Isaac and Mary, but whereas their relationship had deteriorated over time, Zac and Lara's had never truly developed. They were virtual strangers making a mockery of the sanctity of marriage and parenthood. It was a joke.

Taking the elevator up to the third floor, Zac took a moment to clear his head. She'd given him the name of the hotel she was staying at as well as the room number when they spoke earlier. He had no idea what she as doing here, but when she asked him to come, he felt it was his duty as her husband to comply.

When he reached her room, he tapped at the door. He waited a moment and then knocked a bit harder. When there was still no answer, he pulled out his cell phone and called her. He could hear her phone ringing on the other side of the door, and that was when he began to panic.

He started back toward the elevator to go down and speak to the manager about letting him in, but on his way, he spotted the maid service. There was a pretty young girl at the cart, and he mustered up what little charm he had left and talked her into letting him into the room, claiming he'd forgotten his key when he stepped out.

Whether she truly believed him or was simply swayed by his charm - he laughed internally at this idea - he couldn't know, but she let him into the room with a demure smile. As soon as he was inside, he looked around, letting the panic rush back over him.

The bed was a mess but otherwise empty. Lara hadn't taken anything with her aside from the clothes on her back, so he wasn't surprised to see the room virtually in tact. He did note the bottles of liquor on the bedside table but it didn't truly register as he noticed the light coming from the bathroom.

With trepidation, he crossed the room and pushed the door fully open. He stepped inside - not knowing what he might find - and the sick worry he felt increased as he spotted Lara lying back in the bathtub. She had bubbles up with her chin and her eyes were closed. For a moment, he feared the worst, but when the door creaked, her eyes shot open.

She sat up in surprise and he stared back at her. The initial relief he felt over finding her alive and in one piece was wiped away just as quickly as he spotted the razor on the edge of the bathtub.

"Zac," she breathed. "I didn't think you were coming."

He looked from the razor to Lara and then back again, wracking his mind for words to express his utter horror. He'd tried to deny it for the last three years, but he could not lie to himself any longer - there was something seriously wrong.


	8. Misery

_As long as we're together it can always only be misery._

How was it possible he'd written those words _before_ meeting Lara? Because if anyone could see them now, they would most likely be convinced that song was a byproduct of Zac and Lara's sorry excuse for a relationship.

From his seat at the small table in the room, he watched as she lie curled up in the middle of the bed wearing the fluffy white robe provided by the hotel. His stomach still felt in knots over what he'd found inside the bathroom.

He'd removed the razor, dropping into one of the empty liquor bottles he found on the bedside table and threw it into the trash. Then he'd grabbed a towel and helped Lara out of the bathtub. Though he'd not seen her naked in months - the last time being when he'd accidentally walked in on her as she was changing clothes in the bathroom - she didn't seem at all embarrassed.

Her words, declaring her doubts that he would come haunted him. Had he not shown up, what might she have done? Though his feelings toward her were primarily anger, he couldn't help but feel worried. It was obvious that her problems were only growing worse rather than better.

They'd barely spoken since she'd curled up on the bed. She'd only protested mildly as Zac drained the remaining bottles of liquor, but her voice was feeble. It didn't look as though she'd slept at all during the two days she'd been gone - here, apparently.

"Laramie," he finally said.

The sound of her full given name - something he rarely called her - sounded odd on his lips. Only people who didn't know her well or ones who were reprimanding her called her by her that.

She lifted her head to look at him. She didn't speak, but Zac could see that she was listening. "We need to talk about what happened - or, rather, what might have happened tonight," he said.

At these words, Lara closed her eyes and turned her head away. "Lara," he coaxed.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said softly. "I know it was stupid. I probably wouldn't have done it anyway. Or, if I did, I probably would have fucked up. I'm sure you've realized I'm pretty good at that."

Her self-deprecating words were likely meant to spark a fight, but Zac was in no mood to get into another petty fight - not when there was so much more at stake. "Lara, we have to talk about it," Zac said. "I can't just pretend it didn't happen."

"Why not?" she argued. "We pretend about everything else."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he countered, but there was no heat behind his words. He wouldn't allow Lara to make him angry enough to drop this.

"You know exactly what I mean," she laughed humorously. "We pretend about everything, act like it's all okay when it's _never_ been okay."

She certainly had him there, but he wouldn't allow her to deflect to their marital problems - not yet. "Okay, I can't argue that, but, Laramie, this isn't about our marriage. This is about finding you in a bathtub with a razor, ready to do God knows what."

Again, she laughed. It sounded a bit manic. "Zac, our marriage has everything to do with it," she said with conviction. "Why do you think I wanted to end this misery?"

Zac blinked, his mind blank as he processed her words. "You were going to kill yourself because of . . . us? Because of _me_?" His voice cracked on the last word and he had to look away as his eyes burned with shame.

"Zac, we're miserable," she said, her voice thick with more emotion than he'd heard from her in months. "I just wanted it to be over. I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"Feel like what?" he asked, grasping for answers. Any other time he'd tried to crack her shell and get her to speak to him about what she was _really_ feeling it only ended with an argument about something completely irrelevant. Though it pained him to hear that he was a source of her problems, it was better to know the truth. At least then something could be done.

"Trapped," she said. "I just feel . . . suffocated."

Zac glared at these words. Though he knew he shouldn't discount her feelings just because they rubbed him the wrong way, he couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly be suffocating her when they seemed worlds apart most of the time.

"Not _you_ ," she said upon noticing his expression. "This life." Her voice wavered and she looked away again as she spoke. "I didn't want this. Any of it."

"You mean Kasen," he said bluntly. Though he knew it was true and had begun to accept it long ago, the anger that came with it never seemed to decrease. _How can she not love her son?_ He'd asked himself this so many times and never came up with an answer.

Lara shook her head. "It's not . . . I just . . ." she seemed to struggle for the right words, but Zac waited. His patience was thin, but if waiting earned him an answer, he would endure it. "He's a great boy," she said. "Beautiful. Sweet. Perfect. Everything anyone could ask for in a child, but I just . . . I can't."

Zac didn't understand. Maybe it was because he loved Kasen so completely and thoroughly. Even while he was still in the womb, feeling Kasen's tiny feet pressing against his hand through Lara's belly made Zac's heart sing with a joy he had never imagined possible. Even if Kasen hadn't turned out to be his biologically, Zac suspected he still would have loved him. How could Lara not feel the same? But he could see that it pained her to admit this secret that they both had known since the three of them came home from the hospital.

"Do you think it's possible that some people just aren't meant to be parents?" she asked, but she didn't wait for Zac to reply. "I never thought about having kids, Zac. Even when I was kid myself. Other little girls played with their baby dolls. I never wanted to have anything to do with them."

"So, because you didn't play with dolls, you think you weren't meant to be a parent?" Zac asked incredulously.

"Zac . . ." her voice cracked and when she looked at him, he could see the tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't you think I want to want Kasen? Everything would be so much easier that way, but I just . . . _I can't_."

"So, what are you saying? What do you want to do?" he asked. _Aside from kill yourself to escape_ he mentally added. He was trying to remain calm though it was difficult. They'd gone from Lara in a bathtub contemplating suicide to Lara admitting she didn't want their son. He had no idea why he'd asked what she wanted to do. What could they do? This was such a mess.

"I just . . . want out," she said tiredly.

Somehow these words didn't hurt him the way he thought they might have. Rationally, he'd always known she wanted out. She'd only married him because she was in such a panic. She'd been terrified to tell her parents about the baby. He couldn't blame her for that. Maybe they were the reason Lara never had any interest in becoming a parent. They were rather indifferent to Lara, from what he'd seen. They'd only gone around to share the news of their nuptials and the impending birth of their grandson.

When Kasen was born, they'd stopped by, but neither of them seemed at all effected by the newborn babe - not the way his parents and siblings had been. They'd doted on him from the start and had yet to stop.

Now, hearing her admit she wanted out - and he knew this meant both their marriage and motherhood - there was an overwhelming sense of relief. He never thought he'd feel that way. All he'd ever wanted was the best for Kasen. Before Kasen was born, he'd thought marrying Lara was the best way to do right by both her and their child.

Maybe that had been a mistake. Though, if he hadn't married Lara, he wondered what she might have done without him. The idea of her terminating Kasen - even in theory - made his chest ache. He couldn't imagine his life without Kasen. That little boy was his world.

"You've basically been raising him alone anyway," Lara commented when Zac didn't answer her. "He adores you, and you're so good with him. _You_ make him happy. He doesn't need _me_."

Zac stared at her. He wanted to tell her to tell him something he _didn't_ already know, but he could hear the sincerity in her voice. Even if she couldn't care for Kasen herself, she could at least recognize that Zac was more than making up for it.

"So, should I call our lawyer then?" he wondered aloud. God, it had barely been three months since Isaac announced his and Mary's divorce. At the time he'd envied his brother the freedom, but despite the relief that came with the idea of being out of this misery, there was still a feeling of failure.

Lara blinked at him, as if she'd been expecting him to argue with her and try to convince her to stay. His energy was gone. He was too tired to argue. If Lara was as miserable as he was - possibly even more miserable - then what was the use?

Finally, she nodded.

"Where will you go?" he asked. It went without saying that Zac and Kasen would stay in the house. It was their home.

She shrugged her shoulders. "My parents' place, I guess," she said.

"No." Zac shook his head. He'd never tried to boss her around, and though they'd endured a loveless marriage, he cared enough about her well being not to send her back to face her seemingly emotionless parents. A couple months with them and she would be back in the bathtub with another razor. He couldn't have that on his conscious. She was, despite it all, still Kasen's mother.

"Wouldn't you rather have your own place? Or maybe find a roommate?" Zac suggested.

"Zac, I have no money, no job," Lara pointed out.

Zac rolled his eyes. "I can help you until you get on your feet," he said.

"Zac . . . you don't owe me anything," she said. Again, her sincerity startled him. The last three years had been such a struggle - a battle of wills, it seemed. Most of the time he felt like she didn't appreciate anything he did for either her or Kasen. She hadn't thanked him, but she had at least given him an out - one that maybe he should have taken, but he couldn't that. His conscience wouldn't let him.

"I don't mind," he said, softly. "Besides, you gave me our beautiful son, so I at least owe you for that."

Lara rolled her eyes but she didn't argue.

They sat in silence for a long time after that, seemingly lost in their own thoughts. It was hard to believe he'd come here earlier nearly ready to kill Lara only to find her ready to do it herself. It was a mess if ever there was one, but despite it all - the pounds of guilt, suffering and unbelievable obligations - it felt like a weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

He knew that once Lara left that she likely would never return. She was handing over full responsibility of Kasen. Any other man might have been terrified by the prospect, but he'd raised Kasen mostly on his own for the last two years. Now he wouldn't have the extra worry of Lara hanging overhead. They could go their separate ways and live their separate lives.

The only question was how he would explain this to Kasen. Could a two-year-old understand such things? Furthermore, would Kasen even care? Zac didn't think he would, and Zac didn't know how to feel about that. Grateful that he son wasn't really losing anything? Or sad that his son would never really have a mother?


	9. Fire On the Mountain

Zac closed his eyes and took in the silence. Kasen was fast asleep in his racecar bed down the hall, and the only sounds that could be heard were the ticking of the clock in the living room, the buzz of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the distant sound of cars on the roads beyond the walls of their home.

Lara had moved out six weeks ago. The peace Zac had felt since then had been overwhelming. He no longer lie awake in bed wondering he how he could fix things. Each night he went to bed and fell into a tranquil sleep and woke up feeling refreshed each morning. He no longer felt like an old man in a young man's body. His body and mind seemed to be united once more.

Transitioning Lara from their lives had not been as difficult as Zac worried it might be. She'd come and gone so often in the past that Kasen seemed unaffected, and when her belongings disappeared from the house, the two-year-old had only seemed mildly curious about where they had gone. Zac had tried to explain that 'Mama' had taken them with her.

He'd asked "Where Mama go?"

Zac had answered that she'd gone away, and the boy had seemed satisfied by this. There had been no crying or confusion. Again, he wasn't sure whether to be grateful that Lara and Kasen had never grown close enough that being separated would affect their son or saddened that they would never have the same bond he and Kasen shared.

It also hadn't hurt that Kasen had a new fascination: his Uncle Taylor.

When Zac had gone to pick up his son, hours after Taylor had been expecting him to return, Zac had been prepared for the worst. He was anticipating an agitated Taylor and either a still sleeping child or - worst-case scenario - a distraught and confused Kasen.

What he'd found instead had been both shocking and pleasing. He'd knocked at the door, and when Taylor didn't immediately answer, he let himself in using the spare key Taylor had give him years ago.

The music that filled the apartment took him off guard. Zac had figured the piano serenade was coming from a CD or something, but instead, when he'd entered the living room, he'd found Taylor bent over the piano, plucking at the keys with Kasen wrapped around his middle.

The scene was nearly enough to bring Zac to tears. First, because as far as Zac knew, Taylor hadn't touched the piano since they lost their record deal, and, secondly, because Taylor and Kasen had had so little interaction over the years. By the time Kasen was born, Taylor had already begun his downward spiral into a life of drugs and God knows what else. Even if Taylor had shown much interest while he was using, Zac doubted he would've allowed his brother near his son.

Seeing his son tucked so tightly around his uncle with a look of serenity upon his face was an absolutely joy and relief. Zac had been too preoccupied with the Lara mess to really invest much energy in rekindling his relationship with Taylor, but as he watched Kasen nestled in Taylor's arms, looking so comfortable and calm, made Zac thankful that his son would get to know the brother Zac had known and loved growing up.

Zac had waited for several minutes until the song came to an end. After the last note died out, Kasen had exclaimed, "'Gin Unca Tay!"

Zac had chuckled, which alerted them to his presence. Taylor had spun on his seat, looking ready to attack, but when he'd seen that it was only Zac his shoulder had relaxed and he patted Kasen on the back as the boy began to untangle himself.

"How'd you get in?" Taylor had wondered aloud.

"I still had the spare you gave me," Zac had answered as Kasen trotted across the floor and wrapped his arms around Zac's legs. "He been awake long?" Zac had asked, nodding toward Kasen.

"An hour or so," Taylor had shrugged as he stood. He'd stuffed his hands into his pockets - something he did when he was nervous. "He kind of freaked out at first. Can't blame him with not knowing where he was - or me, I guess - and all."

Taylor had looked ashamed admitting that his nephew really didn't know him, but he'd continued on. "He was wet. I think that's woke him. After he calmed down enough, I changed him, but then he started asking for you," he'd explained. "I didn't know when you'd be back, and he kind of freaked out again. I remembered how much Zoe liked listening to the piano, so I tried playing. He calmed down almost right away and crawled up into my lap and wouldn't let go."

"Um, yeah, he kind of latches on like that," Zac had said as he bent and scooped up Kasen. He kissed the boy on the forehead. Kasen blinked sleepily and then laid his head down on Zac's shoulder. "Sorry I was gone for so long."

"It's okay. I didn't mind," Taylor had shrugged. "Everything okay?"

Zac took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I really think it is," he'd admitted. He'd left Lara back at the hotel - only after getting her a new room so she couldn't be tempted to dig around in the trash for the razor he'd thrown out - and he was already feeling a thousand times lighter than he had in years.

Rather than rushing off like he might have in the past, Zac had stuck around for a little while. He and Taylor hadn't really had a chance to sit down in talk since Taylor had arrived home from rehab, and before that they had barely spoken. Taylor had been so consumed with his need for drugs while Zac was busy trying to take care of Kasen and fretting over what to do about Lara.

As they sat in Taylor's living room, Kasen slept against Zac's chest, and the two brothers had a long overdue talk. Somehow it was easier for Zac to tell Taylor about his troubled relationship with Lara. It was no secret among his family that things were far from perfect, but admitting to Taylor that it went deeper than just their relationship felt like a relief. When he finally admitted what had transpired hours earlier at the hotel, Taylor had been shocked - first at Lara's suicidal thoughts and then at her admission of wanting out.

"It sounds like she could use someone to talk to," Taylor had commented after his initial anger had subsided. "A therapist or someone. I don't know that it would make her want Kasen, but it might lessen the likelihood of her slitting her wrists."

Zac had nodded, realizing Taylor was right and wondering if he should have left her alone in the first place. He'd had such a long night, though, that he didn't want to think about it anymore. "That girl you were seeing before still hanging around?" he asked to change the subject.

Taylor had grimaced. "No," he'd said.

Zac had raised an eyebrow and Taylor sighed. "She was here earlier before you asked me to keep Kasen," he'd explained. "I actually thought you were probably her when I heard the knock at the door."

"Expecting her back then?" Zac had frowned. He hated the thought of having a drug addict around his son.

"Well, not really," Taylor admitted. "We sort of had a fight." He'd paused as if expecting Zac to ask what they'd fought about, but Zac wasn't trying to be nosey. He'd only asked about Adalyn because it was the first thing that came to mind. "We had an argument about . . . staying clean. I suggested she try it. She didn't take too kindly to that."

"Well, if you remember, you weren't too keen on the idea at first either," Zac had pointed out.

"Fair enough," Taylor had nodded. "I don't think she'll be back."

"Maybe that's for the best," Zac had said. He wasn't trying to be harsh. He was only thinking about his brother's well being. If the girl didn't want to clean her act up, then she would only ever been a temptation that could cause Taylor to fall back into old habits.

"Probably," Taylor had agreed, but he hadn't sounded completely convinced. He shook it off after a moment, though, and turned to grin at Zac. "So, I guess it looks we're all back on the market again."

Zac had rolled his eyes. He didn't even want to think about seeing anyone. There was still too much to deal with on the Lara front and making sure Kasen adjusted to the changes was at the top of his list of priorities.

Now, as he lay in bed, he couldn't help but smile again in relief that things seemed to be going well in his life. He had taken Taylor's suggestion and mentioned talking to someone to Lara. At first she'd seemed resistant, but when she realized he wasn't asking her in order to get her to change her mind about Kasen, she'd admitted that it probably wasn't such a bad idea.

He'd kept his word and helped her find a place. She hadn't wanted anything extravagant because she'd insisted that as soon as she found a job and got back on her feet, she would take over paying all of the bills. Now, six weeks later, the only bill of Lara's he was still paying was her car insurance, but she'd insisted that in a few weeks time she would be able to take that over as well.

She hadn't been back to see Kasen, and she and Zac only spoke on the phone rather than face to face. Breaking the news of the divorce to his family had been difficult, but, as always, his parents were supportive. They'd expressed a little dismay when Zac had mentioned that Lara wasn't seeking custody of any sort, but when he'd insisted that it was both what she wanted and most likely for the best, they'd let it go.

Kasen's fascination with Taylor had given Zac a chance to get to know his brother once again. Taylor's apartment had become the Hanson brothers hang out in recent weeks. Kasen loved the piano, and every few days he would ask Zac, "Unca Tay play pano for me?"

Taylor seemed just as thrilled to see Kasen as Kasen was to see him, and Isaac showed up from time to time as well. The three adults would sit around and talk while Kasen watched one of the many movies his uncle had collected.

The first time Isaac showed up while Taylor was playing for Kasen, he had looked at Zac and said, "I didn't know he was playing again."

"I wasn't," Taylor said, hearing him despite the music. Isaac and Zac had shared a look - a look of envy because while Taylor had gone back to his instrument of choice neither of them has so much as touched a guitar or drums in nearly three years.

Now, as Zac reflected on his day, he couldn't suppress the smile that today's activities brought to his face.

After enviously watching Taylor play the piano for weeks, Zac had finally broke down and drug his old drum set out of storage. He set it up in the spot Lara's car used to occupy in the garage. Kasen had watched with bright, excited eyes as Zac assembled it, asking curious questions as he played with his toys and watched his father work.

Zac wasn't entirely sure what he would feel when he finally sat down behind the set, but when he did, he felt as though he'd finally returned home. When the band disassembled, Zac had been sure he'd likely never play the drums again. There was just too much heartache and ill feelings toward the institution, or so he'd thought, but the minute his sticks hit the skins, he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. How could he think he could let this feeling of exhilaration go?

Kasen was thrilled by the noise, and as soon as Zac finished warming up, Kasen came over and hopped up on Zac's lap, asking for his turn. They spent an entire afternoon behind the drums, Kasen using his father's arms to play the beats and when they retired for the evening, Kasen was wiped out.

Dinner was followed by a quick bath and Kasen was asleep before Zac was halfway through his nightly bedtime story. Sharing something so close to his heart with his son had felt good. It was as if he'd merged the two parts of his life that had been separate for so long - music and fatherhood. He'd been defined by the latter for the past two years and would be for the rest of his life, but finding his music again felt like he'd finally reached inside his soul and reconnected with the other side of him that existed outside of his parental commitments.

Content, Zac closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	10. Down

Diners. Diners were nice - simple, good places to talk. Taylor could handle diners. Diners - or this one, anyway - don't serve alcohol.

Until Isaac had suggested he and his brothers take an evening to hang out together - someplace other than one of their places - he never realized just how much temptation there was out there.

Though Taylor felt antsy about being out and about like this, he was determined not to show it. He'd been sober for nearly six months. He should be able to handle this. Kevin had been encouraging him to get out like this more often, but he'd yet to follow through on that advice. Instead, he spent most of his days watching television or movies, hanging out with his two-year-old nephew and brothers, ordering in and playing his piano. These things had kept him indoors. Aside from his week of sightseeing after leaving rehab, this was his first real venture out among the living. It was pathetic, but Isaac and Zac seemed excited by the idea of a night out.

Kasen was with his grandparents for the evening. He'd been disappointed he wouldn't be seeing Unca Tay or Unca Eye, but Zac had assured him before leaving that he would see them again soon. Zac hated to admit it, but it felt good to have a night off from fatherhood to hang out with the guys.

As they slid into the booth at the back, they glanced at one another and smiled slightly. It was silly, really, but they hadn't been out together like this in years.

Isaac grabbed a menu and tossed the others to Taylor and Zac.

"What are we going to do after we eat?" Taylor wondered. He figured that knowing the plan for the night might better prepare him for what was yet to come.

"Dunno. Go-Karts?" Zac suggested.

Isaac snorted and Taylor rolled his eyes. For Zac, it was like being blasted right into the past because these were the same reactions he always got when he was younger and made a suggestion neither of them were interested in. The only difference was Zac no longer pouted about not getting his way. He was older now and knew that was just how life was sometimes.

"Why don't we just play it by ear?" Isaac said.

"Sounds good," Zac agreed as he looked the menu over.

Taylor merely shrugged, realizing he'd have to suck it up and go with the flow. Besides, he trusted his brothers not to do anything that might tempt him. He'd noticed they're mindfulness when it came to his situation. He hated being catered to in anyway, but he appreciated their efforts, nonetheless.

When their waitress came, they ordered their food and drinks. As was often the case among them these days, they fell into a comfortable silence. Words never had to be spoken to break the tension because there rarely was any.

However, when Isaac suggested they go out, he'd had an ulterior motive. Since moving into his apartment and cutting back on the charity work, he'd taken time to take stock of his life. He'd led a pretty empty existence for some time, and so he was doubly grateful for Taylor's sobriety and his subsequent reentry into his daily life. Also, since Lara left, Zac had been less distracted and around more. The time they spent together helped to ease the emptiness Isaac had felt as he tried to reconstruct and find purpose in his life.

It wasn't until the first time he'd watched Taylor play piano for Kasen that Isaac realized why he felt so empty. He hadn't given music much thought because for so long it had only brought on feelings of anger and disappointment. Hearing Taylor play, though, had brought him a sense of euphoria he had long missed.

When Zac mentioned setting up his drum set and playing in the garage with Kasen, again Isaac had felt an ache. He was startled to realize that the ache wasn't only sadness but also jealousy. It was silly - why should he feel jealous of his brothers picking up their instruments?

He knew the only thing holding him back from picking up his old guitar was himself. For days he pondered the idea of cradling the instrument in his hands once again. The longing he felt was enough to weaken his resolve to be done forever with music. He'd collected the guitar he'd shoved to the back of his closet when he moved and carefully removed it from its case.

The rightness he felt holding the Gibson in his hands was confirmation that he was on the correct path. He placed his fingers on the neck and strummed the strings, and the sound that echoed throughout his apartment was the sweetest music to his ears. He'd played late into the night and fell asleep, reveling in the sweet soreness he felt in his fingertips.

For weeks after that he'd considered the idea he planned to broach with Taylor and Zac tonight. After the waitress brought their drinks, Isaac decided that it was probably as good a time as any to begin.

"So, guys, I wanted to talk to you about something . . ." he trailed off uncertainly.

Zac and Taylor glanced at each other. Isaac was the least verbose for the trio. It was odd for both them because he used to be the funny guy that always had something to say. Perhaps with age that natural humor had dwindled or had been saved for special occasions - like when he was playing with Kasen and broke into his Kermit the Frog impression. It always sent Kasen into hysterics and had him asking for him to do it again and again.

This uncertainty was sadly the more prevalent side of his personality these days. Though in recent weeks he'd seemed more comfortable, more sure of himself.

"What's up?" Taylor asked. He'd become the one to face things head on when it came to talking. After having his problems laid out on the table for everyone to see, he didn't see much sense in beating around the bush.

Though venturing out into the "real world" still set his nerves on edge, he'd long since faced the fact that this was his life now. He'd always have to be cautious, careful in order to assure his continued sobriety. The need he felt for the drugs after first leaving rehab had subsided slightly. Of course, it was always there in the back of his head, but most of the time he could distract himself well enough to forget about it for a while.

When he needed a reason to keep fighting, he always thought of Kasen. It shamed him to admit he hadn't really known his nephew for the first couple years of his life, but the boy seemed taken with him for whatever reason. With Kasen looking up to him, Taylor felt a certain responsibility that went beyond himself.

That was why he had turned her away when Adalyn had shown up at his door once again almost a month after she'd stormed out. She'd looked even worse than before, and though his first instinct was to give her food and shelter, he realized he couldn't let this cycle continue. He was on the mend and doing better than ever, but he had no doubts that allowing Adalyn back into his life would only hinder the progress he'd made. He'd told her he never wanted to see her at his door again unless she was sober.

This had put her out. She was angry at first, but when the anger morphed into tears of desperation, he'd nearly given in and allowed her back into his life. Then he thought of Kasen and his resolve was strengthened.

He'd wondered often since then where Adalyn might have gone. He'd felt incredibly guilty, thinking he should have offered her some help, but he doubted she would have taken it. Giving her money would only help further her habit, and offering to help her find a place to stay would probably only anger her.

Either way, she was gone now. Kevin, as well as his brothers, had told him repeatedly that he'd done the right thing. He wasn't sure if they thought he should feel proud of himself, but he had yet to find any satisfaction in turning the broken girl from his door.

He pushed these thoughts away and turned his attention back to Isaac who seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

"Ike?" Zac prodded after sharing a curious look with Taylor.

Isaac swallowed and lifted his head to look at his brothers. He eyed them both for a moment, searching their faces, though he had had no idea what he was expecting to find. "I've been kicking around this idea for a while," he finally began.

"Uh-oh," Zac joked to ease the nervousness he felt emanating from his oldest brother.

Isaac smiled in spite of himself and went on. "I started playing guitar again," he confessed.

This proclamation was surprising, but neither Taylor nor Zac could understand why he felt the need to make such a production out of sharing this news.

Zac knew it was probably harder for Isaac than any of them to pick up his instrument again. He couldn't explain how he knew this, but he'd seen the look in Isaac's eyes every time he watched Taylor play the piano or when Zac mentioned playing the drums with Kasen. Sadness seemed to permeate from him, and so many times Zac considered suggesting he pick up his guitar, but he knew it was likely something that Isaac needed to do on his own.

It seemed they'd all been resigned to the idea of music being no more than a piece of their pasts. Instead of the woeful heartache they'd expected to find, coming back to it seemed to wake them up.

"That's what you wanted to talk to us about?" Zac asked curiously. He could sense that there was more, but Isaac apparently needed some prodding along.

"Partly," he said. "I know both of you have been playing again, and I was thinking . . ." He paused to collect his thoughts. He'd toyed with this idea so many times, yet he'd never been able to find the right away to put it out there. "I probably shouldn't assume anything, but I was thinking maybe we could give this music thing another shot?"

The silence that greeted his suggestion made Isaac's heart sink into his stomach. He kept his eyes on his folded hands and prayed that he hadn't just ruined the relationship he and his brothers had rebuilt in the past few months.

"What do you mean - give it another shot?" Taylor finally asked. His tone gave nothing away, and Isaac wanted to look at him to see if he could decipher what Taylor was thinking.

He couldn't lift his head, though, and Zac spoke before he could form an answer.

"It's not like we quit making music because we _wanted_ to," he pointed out. "We didn't have a lot of choice in the matter once the record deal was gone."

Isaac swallowed. The acid in Zac's tone made his stomach churn, and he was thankful they hadn't already eaten because he was sure he would have been sick. "I know that," Isaac said, speaking slow and as calmly as possible. "I meant what if we tried it on our own?"

Again, his brothers were silent. Isaac finally forced himself to lift his head. Taylor and Zac were both watching him, and as soon as he met both of their eyes, they glanced at each other. They shared no words, but it looked as though they were carrying on a conversation.

Finally, they turned back to look at him, and Taylor spoke. "Well, a lot of bands are doing the independent thing these days," he said. Then he grinned.

Isaac's eyes slid to Zac, who wore a smile as well. It was then that Isaac finally let out the breath he'd been holding. A smile slowly slid across his face as the waitress arrived with their food. There would be much to discuss, but as they dug into their meals, Isaac knew that could wait.

Like everything else in their lives, it would be a gradual process. After three years of struggles - loss, addiction and misery - this was something they need not rush back into. Just as the last several months had been an adjustment, going back to music would be one as well. There would be plenty of decisions that needed to be made, but this time they would make those decisions together. They'd been weakened before, and while they were still on the mend, Isaac knew that they were strongest when they were together.


End file.
